Deep Pressure
by songsforfelurian
Summary: Heith fanfic. Keith has a sensory processing disorder, Hunk gives tolerable hugs, and there are a lot of different ways to like a person. Romance, discovering feelings, canon compliant through Season 7, Episode 9: Know Your Enemy. Four chapters planned, explicit add-ons may follow depending on level of interest. Please consider commenting if you like it!
1. Tolerable

"Hey, Shiro? Hold up, a second?"

Keith caught up with Shiro, Pidge and Allura on their way out of the massive hangar that housed the Atlas. The room was buzzing with activity, but Keith could sense the stillness of the ship, the eerie silence of a powerful thing deprived of its purpose.

"Hey, Keith." Shiro spared him a strained smile. He told Pidge and Allura to go on without him, then turned his attention to Keith, maintaining eye contact in a way that let Keith know he was really listening.

He made a mental note. He'd always known that Shiro was a talented leader, but he hadn't always paid attention to the particular qualities that made him one. Not until recently, anyway. Not until he'd started worrying about trying to become one, himself.

"I'm worried about Hunk," Keith told him. "That briefing was brutal. Lance and Pidge are coping because their families were here waiting for them, and… well, I don't think I've ever seen Hunk lose his cool, like that."

Shiro nodded. "What do you think we should do?"

"Well… I think someone should go talk to him."

"Mm. Yeah. Someone should."

They stared at each other for a moment before Keith caught his meaning.

" _Me_?"

Shiro raised his eyebrows. "Why not?"

Keith shook his head. "Bad idea. I wouldn't know what to say."

"You noticed he was upset. You know what's bothering him. I'm sure you can figure something out."

"But-"

"Keith." Shiro put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, applying the perfect amount of pressure. It had taken patience, practice, and trust on both sides, but eventually, Shiro had come to understand and navigate Keith's challenges with physical touch. "You're learning how to lead them in battle. You have to learn to lead them when they're grounded, too." He flashed him a smile. "I know you can do it. Just give it a try."

Keith gritted his teeth. Shiro always knew how to give him a mission, a goal to pursue. He didn't take no for an answer, and he didn't entertain any of Keith's doubts.

Keith just had to figure out how to measure up.

* * *

He found Hunk in a workshop down the hall, venting his frustration on a piece of equipment he couldn't readily identify. Hunk was obviously distressed, and Keith briefly considered making an excuse and ducking out of there – what good could he possibly do? – but he remembered what Shiro had said, and he resolved to give it his best effort.

"Look," he told Hunk, "I'm not really good at talking with people, and I don't expect you to open up to me, but if there's ever anything on your mind-"

He stopped, listening carefully as Hunk launched into a rant, venting his fears and frustrations. Keith had always thought of Hunk as an optimist – sometimes, to a fault – and he grew increasingly more concerned at the hopelessness he heard in Hunk's tone as he talked about his family, and about the loneliness he felt.

Keith knew what it was like to feel hopeless. And he was no stranger to desperate loneliness, either.

He thought about all the times Shiro had pulled him back from the brink. Shiro always knew what to say, always knew exactly what Keith needed to hear in order to keep moving forward.

He always knew how to give Keith a mission. Maybe Keith could give Hunk one, too.

"Look, Hunk," he said. "I never told you this, but of all the paladins, you're the one I'm most impressed by. It's no secret that you've always been the most scared, but… you've never backed down. Never. And to be brave is to go on in spite of fear, and that's who you are, Hunk."

Hunk was looking back at him, wide-eyed and attentive. This was good. He was on the right track.

"I know you're scared," he went on, "but your family… they need you to be strong, right now."

Hunk looked down at the floor, and Keith felt a pang. Was it too much? Too blunt? Too personal? This was a terrible idea, he had no idea how to comfort someone-

His musings were cut short when Hunk threw his arms around him and hugged him tight.

He felt his limbs go momentarily rigid, his typical response to being touched without warning. But then he felt himself relax, felt an involuntary smile spread across his face. The pressure was _good_ : just the right amount, firm and calming and-

And then it was gone, and the loss of it was more grating than the initial shock of it had been.

Hunk was walking away from him.

"Where are you going?"

Hunk gave him a determined look.

"I'm going to get my family."

Keith smiled. They both had a mission, now.

"Not without me."

* * *

"Keith?"

"Yeah, man?"

Keith had been about to swipe himself into his quarters back at the Garrison barracks, but he paused to take in the serious expression on Hunk's face.

"I guess it was pretty risky, going to see my family, like that."

Keith nodded.

"Worth it though, right? Now we know where they are. We know they're okay."

"Well, yeah, but I meant… why did you come along? You didn't need to do that. We could've gotten in so much trouble…"

Keith scrambled for an answer to the question he'd been asking himself all night.

"Well… you're my friend. I was worried about you, and… I mean, I want to save them, too."

Keith's heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. Hunk's lower lip was trembling, like he was about to cry again, and Keith wasn't remotely prepared to cope with that scenario.

"Besides," he went on, hoping to steer the conversation back to safer territory, "the last time they threw me out of this place, I got promoted to _Paladin of Voltron_. I doubt they'll try it again anytime soo- hngh-"

Every cubic centimeter of breath rushed out of his lungs as Hunk caught him in a crushing hug. He dug the heel of his hand into Hunk's shoulder – _too much too much too much_ – and Hunk loosened his hold, though he didn't let go.

"Sorry, man. Too tight?"

"Yeah."

"Is this better?"

Keith battled his flight response, forcing himself to examine the sensation objectively. It was something he'd practiced with Shiro and, eventually, a therapist, once he'd grown tired of flinching every time someone laid a hand on his arm or tried to shake his hand.

It _was_ better. Hunk had stumbled onto the perfect amount of pressure, almost effortlessly. Keith felt his anxiety level plummet, felt himself leaning against Hunk's chest, felt his arms sliding around Hunk's shoulders of their own accord.

"Yeah. It's… better."

Hunk's chin was resting on his shoulder.

"Thanks for coming with me."

"Sure, man."

Keith let his chin rest on Hunk's shoulder, too.

The moment stretched.

"I guess we should get some sleep," Keith said. He didn't let go.

"I wish. I can't imagine sleeping right now. I'll probably watch a movie, or something." Hunk loosened his hold and stepped away. There was a faint blush in his cheeks.

"Uhm. A movie?"

"Yeah. Pidge recovered all our files from… from before. Lance and I had a huge media library, back when we were roommates."

"Oh. Okay. I guess Lance will want to watch, too, right?"

"Nah. He's with his family, still."

"Oh. Right."

Hunk raised a hand to the back of his neck. "Yeah. So… I'll be across the hall. I mean, if you can't sleep, and you want to, like, hang, or something."

"Oh… okay. Uhm. Thanks, Hunk."

"Sure." He hesitated, then said, "'Night, Keith."

"Night."

Keith watched him swipe into his quarters, watched the door slide shut behind him. He stared at it for almost a minute before he moved again.

* * *

Keith turned the conversation over in his mind while he showered, rinsing the dust of the ruined city from his skin. At first, he'd thought Hunk was just being characteristically friendly, inviting him to spend time together. But Lance and Pidge – his best friends, the people he relied on most – were busy spending time with their families, experiencing the reunions they'd been so desperately hoping for ever since they'd first been stranded on the other side of the universe. For tonight, at least, they were safe. They were home.

And Hunk's family may as well have been a galaxy away.

Keith dried himself off, taking care to rub a towel through his hair until all the excess water was gone; he didn't like the feeling of droplets falling onto his face and shoulders. He dressed in a clean set of black underclothes: a close-fitting, high-necked, long-sleeved shirt and slim-fitting leggings. Even though they were technically part of his paladin armor, he preferred them to any of the other clothes he owned. The material was soft and smooth, the fit snug and satisfying, tight enough to banish the itchy, creepy-crawly sensation he experienced when he wore the _wrong_ kind of clothes.

He sat down on his bunk, where Kosmo was curled into a ball, fast asleep. He ran his fingers through the wolf's sleek, silky fur for a moment, thinking.

Then he snapped his communicator back onto his wrist, left his quarters, and knocked on Hunk's door.

"Keith?" Hunk looked confused, and a little concerned. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I…" Keith shrugged a little. "I couldn't sleep, either."

Hunk broke into a sunny grin; it was a relief to see, after everything he'd been through in the last twenty-four hours.

"Sweet! You hungry?"

"Uh… yeah, I could eat."

Hunk stood to the side to let him pass. His quarters were practically empty, like all of theirs were. They'd only brought the bare essentials with them from their lions; none of the personal belongings that might've made these rooms feel like home. And what would've been the point? They were temporary, anyway.

Just like everything else.

"I was making space burritos!" Hunk said, with much of his typical enthusiasm. _Space burritos_ was code for _whatever ingredients I can find, wrapped in bread._ "You can have this one, if you want." He gestured to the finished wrap on the small table in the corner of the room.

"Thanks, man." Keith walked toward the table, but Hunk stopped him, taking hold of his forearm.

"Shit, hang on, I forgot-"

Keith twisted out of his hold, knocking his hand away with a sharp elbow.

"Ah-"

Hunk took a small step away from him, holding up his hands. Keith cringed.

"Shit, Hunk, sorry… I didn't mean-"

"It's okay!" Hunk looked flustered, apologetic. "I… uhm… I forgot I already put sauce on that one. You like yours on the side, right?"

"I… yeah. I do."

"No worries, man. I'll make another one." Hunk avoided his gaze and moved to the table. "My library's up on the viewscreen, if you want to look through it."

Keith felt the back of his teeth grind together. Why was Hunk always so incessantly _nice_? It was grating, at times like this, when Keith didn't feel like he deserved it.

He swallowed the angry notion, converting it to a quiet sigh, then turned toward the viewscreen in the wall and started tapping through a series of folders. He wasn't actually looking at the files, though. He was trying to figure out what to say.

"I… I have a thing," he blurted.

Hunk didn't look up from the ingredients he was arranging on top of the circular, grain-based wrapper that vaguely resembled a tortilla.

"Huh?"

"I have a _thing,_ " Keith repeated, with emphasis. "When you grabbed my arm, I-"

"I know," Hunk said, looking at him, now. "You don't like to be touched, right? I'm really sorry, man. I suck at remembering that kind of thing. I'll work on it."

Keith shook his head. "No, you don't need to do that. And it's not really like that, anyway. I don't mind being touched, as long as it's…"

He made an inarticulate gesture. Hunk raised an eyebrow. Keith let out a small, frustrated groan.

"It's complicated."

Hunk shrugged a little.

"Sounds like a sensory processing disorder."

Keith blinked.

"Yeah, it… how did you know that?"

"My cousin. He has a hard time with bright lights, loud noises, certain foods. He hates being touched by strangers, too. So… want to tell me about it?"

Keith chewed the inside of his cheek.

"I don't like to be caught off guard. It makes me impulsive. I end up doing things I regret."

Hunk nodded. "Fair enough."

"But sometimes… like when you hugged me, earlier… if the pressure is just right, it's… tolerable."

"Tolerable?"

Keith narrowed his eyes. "Yes. Tolerable."

Hunk went back to prepping the burrito, shifting his gaze downward, again. "So you don't mind being touched, as long as it's in the right way."

"And in the right place."

"And by the right person?"

Hunk was still decidedly staring down at the table, which was a blessing, because Keith could feel the heat of a blush in his cheeks.

"Yeah. Pretty much."

"Okay. Sounds simple enough, to me."

Keith exhaled a bitter laugh. "Does it?"

"Sure. I won't grab you unless I know you want me to. Easy-peasy."

Keith felt a tug behind his navel.

 _Unless he knows I want him to?_

"Don't worry, man. No sauce on the inside. I promise."

Hunk was standing in front of him, now. Keith stared at the burrito for a moment, processing, before he finally accepted the plate.

"Thank you. You really didn't have to do that."

Hunk tilted his head to one side.

"I'm feeling like you're used to letting people stomp all over your boundaries. It might not happen so often, if you just explained what they were."

Keith glared involuntarily.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it took you, like, thirty seconds to explain the whole sensory issue, and it took me, like, a minute to make you a new burrito, and, I mean, obviously this conversation is making you super uncomfortable, and that'll suck for like, a second, but… don't you think it's better that you told me?"

Keith's mouth fell open.

"I… I guess I don't want people to have to worry about it. About me."

"Dude. You're not an inconvenience. You're my friend."

Hunk turned to the panel and started tapping, while Keith stood there in a stunned silence, staring.

"I'm picking something animated," he said easily, as if they hadn't just been discussing one of the most private, personal aspects of Keith's life. "I can't deal with anything heavy right now. Does that work for you?"

"Uh." Keith cleared his throat. "Uh huh. Whatever you want."

Hunk set the movie to play, retrieved his own burrito from the table, and then sat down cross-legged at the end of his bunk, which was directly opposite the screen in the wall. Keith had been ready to drag one of the chairs from the table closer to the viewscreen, but Hunk had left him plenty of space to sit comfortably on the bed, leaving him with an uncomfortable dilemma.

He hated situations like this. It was one of the reasons he typically preferred to avoid socializing altogether. Did Hunk _actually_ want him to sit on the bed, or had he just sat down where he was most comfortable? If Keith sat on the floor or the chair instead, would he be offended? Confused? Distracted? Would they have to _talk_ about it? Keith felt that he was always misreading or overthinking everyone else's intentions, forever on the brink of embarrassing himself, or offending someone, or upsetting the delicate balance of mutual respect he'd struck with his teammates.

His friends.

He sat down on the opposite end of the bed.

"Have you seen this one?" Hunk asked, gesturing toward the screen, swallowing a bite of burrito.

"I think so. When I was a kid."

"I don't even know if it's any good, but it makes me laugh, anyway. Lance knows the words to all the songs from, like, every animated movie ever created, and he used to _perform_ them, like, fake microphone, costumes, singing at the top of his lungs, the whole deal. We got written up for a noise violation, watching this one. I laughed so hard I thought I was gonna barf."

Keith let out a small laugh, glad to see Hunk slowly returning to his typical state of high-spirited chattiness. "I can picture it. Lance can be pretty funny, sometimes."

"He really can. I… uh… I'm glad you guys are getting along, these days. I think he is, too."

Keith nodded. "So am I."

They ate in silence for a while, watching the characters in the film swim around their animated ocean. Hunk stood up when he finished his burrito, took Keith's plate, and then retrieved two bottles of water from a crate in the corner. Keith accepted his gratefully, downing a quarter of it in a single swallow.

"So…" Hunk ventured, once he'd sat down on the opposite side of the bed, again. "Hugs are okay, sometimes?"

Keith fidgeted with the lid of the bottle.

"Uh. Yeah. Sometimes."

"Because it seemed like… well, I know my cousin likes deep pressure. Or, like, it helps, sometimes."

Keith didn't respond. He was surprised to find that he didn't mind the questions – it was actually a relief, to have the subject raised in such a casual way – but he was having trouble figuring out what to say.

"So… does it feel good anywhere else?"

Keith risked a glance in Hunk's direction. His eyes were locked on the screen.

"The pressure, I mean," Hunk clarified.

"Uhm. Shiro squeezes my shoulders, sometimes."

"So he knows?"

"Yeah. He's the one who helped me figure out why… why I was having so many… problems."

He could see Hunk nodding in his periphery.

"Okay. Hugs and shoulders. Anything else?"

"Uh. My hands, I guess. Sometimes I would skip our regular fighting drills and box, instead. Something about the impact. But then, they ache after, so…"

He stopped. He'd been rambling.

It wasn't a thing he was used to doing.

"Okay." He saw Hunk shift, a little. "Do you want to show me?"

"Huh?"

"I… I could put pressure on your hands, if you want." Hunk was staring at a spot on the floor, now. "If it would help, I mean. You did something really amazing for me today. I owe you one."

Keith could feel himself frowning in discomfort and confusion: discomfort, because Hunk had stumbled all the way inside his metaphorical stronghold of embarrassing personal information, and confusion, because he was seriously considering taking him up on the offer. He'd spent all night thinking about the way Hunk had hugged him – couldn't stop himself from thinking about it, in fact – and as much as he'd been genuinely concerned about Hunk's well-being, part of him knew he was in Hunk's quarters right now because he was hoping it would happen again.

It had been… _tolerable._

"Okay," he said, his voice rough and grating to his own ears.

He set his water bottle aside, moved his left hand to the center of the bed, and let it rest there.

He stared at the viewscreen while Hunk moved closer to him, picked up his hand, and held it carefully between both of his own.

He winced.

"Light pressure like that feels… bad," he said.

Hunk let go.

"Okay. Uh. You might have to tell me what to do."

Keith swallowed. "When I was younger, Shiro would say, _Too much or not enough?_ Like, until he got the pressure right. So… you can squeeze my fingers, and I'll tell you."

Hunk picked up his hand again, held it firmly at the wrist, and gave his fingers a tentative squeeze.

"Not enough."

The pressure increased.

"Just right."

Hunk nodded. "Easy enough. Just hold it, like this?"

Keith examined the sensation. Hunk's hands were huge, big enough to encircle all of his fingers, and then some.

The notion made him feel… _something._

"Yeah. I'll tell you when to stop."

"Sure."

They lapsed into silence, again, staring at the screen, but Keith wasn't really paying attention to the movie. He was focused on the pressure encircling his fingers, tight enough that he could feel his pulse throbbing pleasantly there, but not tight enough to cause any true discomfort. He drew in a slow breath, and when he let it go, he felt some of the tension he'd accumulated that night leaving his body along with it. He found himself wishing the sensation would spread – wishing that he could feel it pressing against him from all sides…

He swallowed.

"Can you do the rest of my hand?"

He felt Hunk adjust his grip, so that his fingers were clasped over the entirety of the back of his hand.

Hunk squeezed.

"Too much or not enough?"

"Uh. Just right."

"Sick! Nailed it!"

Keith smiled at the screen, extending his mind to the new point of contact, enjoying the sensation of being…

 _Held?_

"…your other hand?"

He looked at Hunk, blinking.

"Huh?"

"Do you want me to do the other one? For symmetry, or whatever?"

"Oh." Keith considered this. Hunk wouldn't be able to reach his other hand, from here. They would have to get closer to each other.

He didn't consider it for very long.

"Okay."

Hunk let go of his left hand. The loss of pressure grated on Keith's nerves – that, alone, would've convinced him to let Hunk hold the other one, if he hadn't already decided to – so he shifted a few inches to his left. He'd intended to move his right arm across his body, but Hunk had other plans. He got up from the bed and sat down on Keith's other side, and then he picked up Keith's hand and pulled it into his lap.

No hesitation. No fanfare.

Just contact. Just pressure.

"Too much or not enough?"

Keith licked his lips.

"Not enough."

"Damn. I thought I had it, that time." He squeezed. "Now?"

"Um. Just right."

"Okay. Second try's not bad, right?"

"No," Keith told the viewscreen. "It's not bad."

Hunk held the pressure steady – _perfectly_ steady – until Keith told him to move on to the rest of his hand, and then he held that pressure steady, too, without any hint of awkwardness, or boredom, or impatience.

Keith started to wonder how long Hunk would hold on, if he never told him to stop.

"Can you hold hands with your fingers all interlocked?" Hunk asked. They'd been silent for so long that Keith flinched a little, pulled out of his pleasant, deep-pressure haze. Hunk didn't seem to notice, though. "Or does that bother you?" he was asking. "Having someone's fingers between your fingers, I mean."

"Uh. I don't know. I've never tried it."

Hunk's head snapped in his direction.

"You've never held someone's hand?"

"Not like that."

Hunk stared at him, his eyebrows drawn together, his mouth set in a gentle frown. Then he looked back at the screen, adjusted the position of his hand, and interlaced their fingers together.

Keith's skin started to crawl, from the spaces between his fingers, up to his wrist and forearm, then all the way to his shoulder… he pulled his hand away, shaking it, trying to rid himself of the sensation.

"Shit! Keith, I'm sorry, I thought maybe-"

"It's fine," Keith said, trying not to blush, knowing he was helpless to stop it. It _was_ fine. He wasn't angry, he was just _defective,_ held prisoner by his own involuntary responses, barred from the simplest, most mundane gestures of affection, none of which was Hunk's fault-

"I shouldn't have done that, though, I should've asked you-"

"No, Hunk, seriously-"

"Are you mad? Please don't be mad-"

He grabbed Hunk's hand and held on, scowling pointedly at the floor. They held onto each other awkwardly for a moment, their hands hovering in the air, in the small stretch of space between them, until Hunk slowly pulled Keith's hand into his lap, again.

Keith let him.

Hunk started to move his hand – back to its previous, more neutral position, Keith guessed – and Keith squeezed, stopping him.

"I can hold hands like this," he blurted, "if-"

"Okay," Hunk said, his voice quiet. "Good. It's… I like this better, anyway."

 _I like this better._

 _I like this._

Keith played the words in his mind over and over while his heart hammered away in his chest. A minute ago he'd been sinking into the relaxing embrace of a deep-pressure calm, and now he was wide awake, tingling from head to toe, trying to control his breathing.

It was exhilarating.

 _I like this, too._

"Keith?" Hunk squeezed his hand, just a little, just for a second, and the tingling, live-wire sensation exploded upward, traveling along Keith's arm, settling into his chest. His heartbeat thrummed.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want me to squeeze your shoulders?"

 _Yes. Yes. Please. I want you to._

"Okay."

Hunk let go of his hand and turned toward him, and Keith took the hint. He moved until he was facing away from Hunk, sitting cross-legged in the center of the bed. He felt the mattress shift – Hunk was sitting up on his knees – and then he felt Hunk's huge hands resting heavily on his shoulders, pressing down in a perfectly uniform squeeze.

"Too much or not enough?"

Keith was having trouble finding his breath.

"Just right," he murmured.

And it _was_ , although Keith was struggling to understand how the sensation could be both soothing and electrifying at the same time. He wasn't feeling particularly relaxed – he thought he was likely to vibrate right out of his skin, any minute now – but he felt _good_. Anchored, excited, _safe-_

Hunk's arms slid down and around his chest, encircling him, wrapping him up in the pressure and the warmth…

Keith let the air out of his lungs.

" _Too much?"_

Hunk's voice was low and close.

" _No."_ Keith leaned back against his chest. _"Just right."_

Hunk's forehead was resting against his hair.

" _Keith?"_

Keith felt his heart leap into the back of his throat.

" _Yeah?"_

" _I was thinking I might try to go to sleep."_

" _Oh. Okay-"_

" _And I was thinking…"_

Keith _felt_ his hesitation, felt Hunk's breath catch in his chest, because his back was pressed against it.

" _I was thinking… maybe you could stay."_


	2. Different Ways to Like a Person

" _I was thinking… maybe you could stay."_

Keith didn't answer right away. He was busy trying to understand how he'd managed to stumble upon the exact sensation he'd thought about, wished for, _craved_ for so long… trying to process the fact that he was being crushed against Hunk's chest, held steady by Hunk's arms… realizing that he wanted this moment to last and last and last…

He held onto Hunk's arms with his hands.

" _Hunk?"_

" _Yeah?"_

" _A little more?"_

Hunk tightened his hold, and Keith let his eyes fall shut, let his mouth fall open…

" _Oh,"_ he let slip

He felt the slow rise and fall of Hunk's chest against his back.

" _Still just right?"_

" _Yeah."_

He felt Hunk shift against him, and the calm, sleepy haze he'd fallen into started to lift a bit. Hunk was up on his knees, trying to hold himself perfectly still. It had to be uncomfortable – everything about this had to be uncomfortable – and yet he hadn't said anything, hadn't shown any sign of judgment or discomfort whatsoever.

 _And he won't_ , Keith realized, suddenly. _He'd probably try to stay like this all night if I asked him to._

 _All night._

" _Hunk?"_

" _Uh huh?"_

He steeled himself. He forced the words out.

" _Do you want to lay down?"_

" _Yeah."_

Hunk let go.

Keith found the sudden loss of pressure disorienting. His skin felt _uneven_ , like he'd been touched too much in some places and not others, and the change in temperature along his back made him feel momentarily lightheaded. He swallowed hard.

He turned to face the viewscreen in the wall – he didn't look at Hunk; he wasn't ready for that – and then he laid down on his side on Hunk's pillow, on top of the blankets.

He waited.

A few seconds ticked by before Hunk started to shift, and then he felt Hunk's right arm sliding under the pillow, felt Hunk's chest pressing against his back…

And then Hunk's left arm was encircling him, holding tight to his chest, applying comforting, exhilarating, _perfect_ pressure…

" _Too much?"_ Hunk murmured, close to his ear.

" _No,"_ Keith said, breaking the script, because the heat and solid _presence_ of Hunk's body was making it hard to think.

" _Do you want to keep the movie on?"_

" _Uh. Not really."_

"Viewscreen off," Hunk called. "Dim lights."

The computer complied with his requests, and the lighting in the room fell to a pale, nightlight glow.

" _Better?"_ Hunk asked, speaking quietly, again. _"Do bright lights bother you, too?"_

" _They…"_

Keith stopped. Searching for the words was like wading through molasses; his mind was filled to the brim with the soothing sensation of being _held_.

Talking was good, though, Keith decided. Silence might've been difficult, might've drawn more attention to the fact that they were in bed together, pressed up against each other…

" _It's hard to explain,"_ he said.

" _Try me. Take your time."_

Keith thought for a while, trying to figure out how to translate his sensory experiences into words.

" _Some things go off in my head like alarm bells,"_ he finally said. _"Like a siren. Being grabbed or touched the wrong way. Having to eat something I really hate. Trying to hold a conversation in a noisy room. But other things are just… smaller. Like a mosquito bite. Annoying, but easier to ignore. For me, the lights are usually like that. Uh. Unless I've had a really bad day."_

" _Is it cumulative? Do the smaller things add up?"_

" _Yeah. They can. I've gotten pretty good at keeping that from happening, though."_

" _Uh huh. You're awesome. I had no idea it was such a struggle. I mean, I know it must feel terrible, still, but you don't really let it show."_

Keith felt himself frown. _Awesome?_

" _Seriously? I feel like it must show all the time."_

" _No way. I always thought you were just… like… focused. In a good way. It's not that strange to keep your distance from people you don't know that well. Everyone values their personal space, y'know?"_

Keith found this statement ironic, given their current configuration.

" _Even you?"_

" _Uh. I mean, sometimes. Or… maybe not. I don't know. I guess I'd rather be… close."_

" _Yeah, I… I used to wonder if you and Lance…"_

Hunk let out a low laugh. Keith felt his breath on the back of his neck.

" _Wanna know a secret?"_

" _Yeah."_

" _Lance and I made out, once. On a dare, at a party."_

" _Really?"_

" _Uh huh. I didn't hate it. I mean, it wasn't weird, or anything. He's a sloppy kisser, though. And neither of us felt much of anything. We were already best friends by then, and we liked it that way."_

Keith took a moment to process this, trying to summon the courage to ask what he wanted to ask.

" _So, you… um… you like guys?"_

He felt Hunk shrug, a little.

" _I like all kinds of people."_

" _Oh. Okay. I… I didn't know that."_

" _Yeah. I guess it never really came up."_ They were quiet for a moment before Hunk prodded, _"So… what about you? What kind of people do you like?"_

" _I don't know,"_ Keith said honestly.

" _That's cool. I guess I don't really know sometimes, either. It can be hard to tell."_

" _Really? I thought most people just… knew."_

" _Maybe. Not me, though. I think there are a lot of different ways to like a person."_

" _Like what?"_ Keith asked, genuinely curious about what Hunk would say.

" _Well… sometimes I like someone because of the way they talk, or laugh. Sometimes I really like the way someone's hair looks. Sometimes I like someone because they're really passionate, or really good at something. Sometimes I like people who are smaller than me, because… because I…"_

He let the sentence go, and Keith felt a pang. He didn't want Hunk to stop talking. He wanted to know what Hunk was going to say.

" _Because what?"_

" _Uh. Because I like doing this. What we're doing. Whatever this is. I… I think about doing things like this all the time, and… I know I said I wanted to do this for you, because I wanted to help you, and that was true, but… I like it, too, and I really hope that's okay."_

Keith could hear the apprehension in his voice, could feel it in the way his arm tensed a bit around his chest. He didn't want that.

Of course, he wanted Hunk to like what they were doing.

Of course, he wanted Hunk to want this, too.

He'd been staring at Hunk's fingers, which were peeking out from under the pillow, close to his nose. He reached up and let his hand rest on top of them.

" _It's okay."_

" _Really?"_

" _Yeah."_

" _You promise?"_

Keith laughed, a little bit. _"Yeah. I promise."_

" _It's good to hear you laugh."_ Hunk gave him a tiny, tighter squeeze. _"You should do it more."_

" _Mm. I might need some help with that."_

" _Sure. I volunteer."_

" _Okay. Give it your best shot."_

Hunk was quiet for a moment.

" _Okay. I have a story. You ready?"_

" _Ready."_

" _So… I don't know if you know this, but Lance grew his hair out longer for a while, back when we were cadets. Everyone kept telling him how pretty he was for, like, weeks."_

" _Ugh,"_ Keith groaned.

" _I know, right? Super annoying. Anyway, this one time, we decided to hack into that huge viewscreen in the auditorium so we could play our video games in there, right? So I was changing out the wiring in the control box so we could hook up one of our old consoles, and I told Lance to lean close to the box to help me find the next wire I needed, but I accidently sparked one of the connections, and… his hair caught on fire a little bit."_

Keith let out a burst of laughter.

" _Holy shit!"_

" _I know! Oh my God, he screamed so loud! He was FINE though, it was, like, the tiniest little spark, and I didn't even feel bad because I was so sick of everyone talking about that fucking haircut!"_

Keith went on giggling, imagining the scenario playing out.

" _Oh man, he was so pissed, though,"_ Hunk went on. _"We still played video games, but he sulked on the opposite side of the auditorium for a whole hour. I didn't even think he was capable of keeping his mouth shut for that long. I kept telling him how impressed I was, and he kept, like, growling at me from a distance."_

Hunk laughed to himself for a minute. Keith liked the way the vibration of it felt against his back.

" _I can't believe you re-wired the viewscreen in the auditorium, though. I didn't really think you were the rebellious type."_

" _Oh, shit, yeah, Iverson was so pissed. We totally got caught. Like, red-handed. He was impressed, though, too, so he let us off with a warning."_

" _Mm. Sounds like a lot of fun."_

" _It was."_

Keith stared at his hand, where it was resting on top of Hunk's hand. He moved his fingers a little bit and squeezed.

Hunk squeezed back and held the pressure steady.

Keith felt the tempo of his heartbeat start to climb.

 _Keep talking,_ he told himself. _Talking is good._

" _So… you like video games?"_ he prompted.

" _I LOVE video games."_

" _Me, too."_

" _Yeah?"_ Hunk sounded genuinely interested. " _What's your favorite?"_

Keith smiled, sifting through some of his favorite, well-worn memories.

" _I used to play on my dad's ancient consoles when I was a kid. He said I had to suffer through the old-fashioned graphics to earn my way up to the new stuff. I didn't mind, though. I loved them all. Did you ever play classic Ratchet and Clank?"_

Hunk pressed a little closer against his back.

" _I LOVE Ratchet and Clank."_

" _Really?"_

" _Yeah. I think I have all of them in my library."_

" _Okay. We should definitely play."_ Keith hesitated, reflecting on the fact that this moment of peace was happening in the middle of a warzone, inside the last stronghold of their conquered planet. " _Someday, I mean,"_ he amended. " _When we have time."_

" _Sure. If we're still alive when this is all over, we can play some video games."_

Keith moved without thinking. He sat up, turned over, and took hold of Hunk's shoulder.

"Hunk."

Hunk blinked up at him, open-mouthed.

"Yeah?"

Keith leaned a little closer to him.

"We are _not_ going to die."

They stared at each other, their faces only a few inches apart. Keith felt Hunk's shoulder rise and fall with his breathing, which was different, now that they were face to face.

His own was, too. He could feel his heart rate climbing, the first hints of adrenaline prickling deep in his chest and at the corners of his mouth. The loss of pressure was disorienting all over again, in a way he hadn't anticipated. He wasn't used to deep pressure, to being regulated by someone else's touch, by someone else's body-

"Keith…"

Hunk had propped himself up, his face was even closer-

There was a knock at the door.

Keith flew out of the bed.

" _Hunk? You still awake, buddy? I brought you a snack!"_

Keith winced.

 _Lance._

"Keith." Hunk was standing in front of him, now. His voice was quiet, his expression concerned. "It's okay, man. I won't say anything."

"I… that's not…" Keith scowled. The words wouldn't come. His heartbeat was uncomfortably loud, a persistent throb in his ears. "I should go."

Hunk stepped a little closer to him.

"I don't want you to."

" _HUNK! OPEN UP, MAN, I HAVE FOOD!"_

Hunk exhaled a groan, rolling his eyes.

"Lights," he called softly, and the room brightened again. He moved to the door and tapped the control panel to open it.

"Hey, man! Check it out! My mom had some chocolate stashed somewhere-"

Lance caught sight of Keith as soon as he stepped over the threshold. He flashed him a smile, seemingly unfazed about finding him in Hunk's quarters this late at night.

"Keith! Hey, man, how's it going?"

"Hey, Lance. I was just heading to bed. You good?"

"Yeah. Want some banana?" He jiggled the plate he was holding. "Chocolate flakes, too!"

"Nah. Thanks, though." Keith headed for the exit, avoiding Hunk's gaze. "You guys should catch up on sleep while you can. Let me know if you need anything."

"Later!" Lance called after him. He was already swiping himself into his quarters.

He let the door slide shut behind him and leaned against it, trying to figure out how he felt about the fact that Hunk hadn't tried to stop him.

He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

* * *

Kosmo was waiting for him, sitting up on the foot of the bed, giving him a look that could only be interpreted as _reproachful._

"What?" Keith demanded. "That's _my_ bunk you're slobbering all over, you know."

Kosmo snuffle-yipped, bobbing his head in rebuke, like he knew Keith hadn't planned on coming back until morning.

"Oh, like it's any of your business!"

Keith flopped onto his bunk and scowled at the ceiling. Kosmo jumped down from the bed to make room for his legs, sat down next to him on the floor, and let out a low howl.

"I'm _fine_ ," Keith lied.

He let his hand fall onto Kosmo's head and stroked his fur.

He thought about Hunk's arms tightening around his chest.

He sighed.

His wrist communicator vibrated. He tapped into the notification, and a holographic display of a private text chat materialized above his forearm.

Hunk: I'm sorry about that. Lance went to bed.

He typed a response:

Keith: Don't apologize. Not a big deal.

He watched the seconds tick by on the clock at the top of the display, waiting for a response.

 _Ask me to come back. I will, if you ask._

Hunk: I think we should hang out again sometime.

Keith felt a weight settle in the pit of his stomach.

 _Sometime._

Not _now_.

Not _right this second._

Keith: Sure.

Hunk: I'll be here. If you can't sleep.

Keith chewed his lower lip. It was so close to what he needed to hear. It was as much as he could've hoped for.

But it wasn't enough.

Keith: I'll be here, too.

The seconds ticked by.

Hunk: Night, Keith.

Keith: Night.

He closed the display. He knew staring at it would only spike his anxiety.

He knew his anxiety was going to spike, anyway.

He stood up and walked to the closet at the far side of the room. He pulled out all of the spare sheets and blankets he found inside and layered them on top of his bunk. Then he slid underneath the pile and shifted onto his stomach, focusing on the weight of the blankets against his back…

It wasn't enough.

He stood up from the bed, pulled off one of the blankets, and wrapped it snugly around his torso, fighting the urge to secure it too tight. He knew it wasn't worth it – he didn't want to hurt himself – but he was chasing the kind of pressure he couldn't replicate by on his own, the sensation of laying in bed next to-

 _Hunk_.

He finished wrapping the blanket and slid under the covers again, sighing just to feel the resistance against his chest. It felt good. It felt better.

It still wasn't enough.

He closed his eyes, pressed his face against his pillow, and let himself imagine that he was still being held.

He thought about Hunk's hands – wide, skilled and strong – encircling all of his fingers at once.

He thought about the rise and fall of Hunk's chest against his back.

He thought about the vibration of Hunk's laughing, about Hunk's breath on the back of his neck-

He felt heat and pressure below the waistline of his pants.

" _Fuck!"_

The pillow absorbed the sound of his voice, and he was grateful. He didn't want to hear himself speaking that word. He didn't want to think about what this meant – the fact that he was getting hard, imagining his friend's hands on his body. It was mortifying. What would Hunk think, if he knew? And why was it happening _now_? They were _friends_. Keith had never had thoughts like this about Hunk before. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd had thoughts like this about _anyone._

He shifted his position so that he could squeeze the fingers of his left hand, like Hunk had done, and remembering that simple gesture offered him a moment of clarity.

Hunk hadn't just squeezed his hand. He'd _held_ it.

Hunk's arms around him had been more than just deep pressure. They'd been in bed together, talking and laughing, feeling each other's bodies.

It had been an embrace.

At least, it had felt that way, to Keith. Hunk was the only person who had ever held him close, like that.

Hunk was the only person he'd ever wanted to stay with, all night.

Hunk was the only person who'd ever asked him to.

 _There are a lot of different ways to like a person._

Keith turned onto his side, curled into a ball, and wished that Hunk would come knock on his door.

He went on wishing for it until he fell asleep, alone.


	3. You Can Count On Me

Keith was sitting in a chair in an empty examination room, fighting through a gradually receding wave of panic.

His nerves had already been frayed after a night of restless contemplation and too-little sleep, and watching Shiro screaming in pain in response to his malfunctioning prosthetic had pushed him right up to the edge of a breaking point. Luckily, he'd been able to duck away from the group before the wave of sickening adrenaline had come crashing down on him.

 _He's fine. Shiro's fine. Everything's okay._

He put his elbows on his knees, held his forehead in his hands, and tried to believe it.

There was a knock at the door.

" _Keith?"_

He straightened up.

It was Hunk.

He stared at the door, wishing for the comfort he knew Hunk's presence could bring, rebelling against the potential for complication.

His wrist communicator buzzed.

Hunk: I know you're in there. Can I please come in?

Keith felt a pleasant flutter in his midsection. The door wasn't locked. Hunk could've barged right in if he'd wanted to.

But he hadn't. He'd asked, first.

Keith: Yeah.

The door swung open slowly, and Hunk stepped inside and shut it behind him. He carried a chair over from the corner of the room, set it down next to Keith, and settled into it.

They were silent for a moment, holding themselves still, staring at the opposite wall.

"Well," Hunk eventually said. "That was horrifying on every conceivable level."

The bluntness of his assessment caught Keith completely off guard.

He laughed, and the tension shattered.

Hunk eyed him, smiling.

"Shiro's doing just fine, man. It's all going to be okay."

Keith nodded, recovering.

"I know. It's just… he keeps trying to die on me."

"Nah. No way. Shiro's, like, unkillable. He's the second-biggest badass I know."

Keith met his eye. "Oh yeah? Who's the first?"

Hunk went slightly pink in the cheeks.

"You're really gonna make me say it?"

Keith raised his eyebrows. " _Me_?"

"Duh."

He shook his head.

"Pretty sure I wouldn't be hiding in this medical bay if I were really such a badass."

"Yuh huh. That's _why_ you are. You know how to handle your shit. It's not even 10:00 AM yet and I've almost lost my mind, like, three different times today. That briefing… and then Shiro… and you've been _awesome._ You're holding us all together, man, and…"

Hunk stood up and faced away from him.

"I was waiting for a chance to talk to you," he went on, fidgeting with his hands in front of his stomach, "because I just wanted to tell you... I already thought you were the biggest badass I've ever met, even before I knew you had SPD, and now that I know… I kinda can't even deal with how impressive you are. So if you need to lose your shit for a minute before we go figure out how to blast Sendak out of the sky… I'll be here for you. And…" he dropped his hands to his sides, turning his head just enough that Keith could see his profile. "You should've come back to my room, last night."

Keith looked down at the floor, feeling light and lightheaded, like a balloon had inflated inside his chest.

"I know. I wanted to."

Hunk turned to face him.

"So why didn't you?"

"Because I don't know how to do…" He gestured vaguely between them. "… _this._ "

"Okay, me neither, but… so what? I mean, we're staring down almost certain death, like, every day. What do we have to lose?"

Keith shook his head. "I don't even know what you're getting at. We were just-"

"Snuggling? In bed together?"

Keith's mouth fell open.

"We… we were?"

A crease appeared between Hunk's eyebrows. Keith wanted to smooth it away.

"You were there, weren't you?"

"Well, yeah, but I meant… you were just doing me a favor, right? Trying to make me feel better?"

"Uh, yeah, but I was also…" Hunk hesitated, then said, "I told you, man. I really wanted to do that stuff, too."

The balloon in Keith's chest was uncomfortable, now. He was having trouble getting enough air into his lungs. His chest was tight with anticipation, his mind reeling at the notion that Hunk might be about to hand him something he desperately wanted, something he'd barely begun to name, yet.

"Why?" he asked. "Why would you want to do that kind of thing with me?"

"Because it felt good. Because I trust you, and… I think you're awesome."

Keith stood up, emboldened. Hunk had said what he'd needed to hear.

"I think you're awesome, too."

Hunk's eyes lit up. "Really?"

" _Duh_ ," Keith quoted, earning himself a smile. "You're so smart, and you make everyone laugh all the time, and you _get_ what's going on with me…"

He ran out of words. He didn't know where this was going, but he knew he was glad Hunk had come to find him, and he knew that even the small distance between them felt like too much, right now.

"Keith? Can I…"

Hunk paused, then crossed his arms over his own chest, bringing his hands up toward his shoulders.

 _Yes_ , Keith thought. _You can. I want you to._

He nodded.

Hunk moved behind him, slid his arms around his chest, and held on tight.

" _Too much or not enough?"_ His voice was low, his chin resting on Keith's shoulder.

" _Not enough."_

He tightened his hold, and Keith let go of his breath, along with almost all the tension he'd been holding in his neck and shoulders. He closed his eyes.

" _Just right."_

Hunk nodded against his shoulder, and his hair moved against Keith's neck and ear, a light, feathery sensation that pulled him out of the greater bliss he'd been sinking into.

" _Hunk… your hair…"_

Hunk lifted his head, pulling away from him a bit.

" _Sorry. Better?"_

Keith frowned. It wasn't.

" _No. I just meant… it was too light. It wasn't… enough."_

" _Oh."_

A couple of seconds ticked by before Keith felt Hunk's cheek press against his neck – soothing heat and perfect pressure against sensitive skin…

" _Mh,"_ Keith let slip.

" _Too much?"_

" _No,"_ he murmured, caught halfway between _just right_ and _not enough_. He was having trouble finding his breath again, for an entirely new reason. He tilted his head in Hunk's direction and let his cheek rest against his hair, breathing in the smell. It was fresh and clean, and so wonderfully familiar: soap and shampoo like he'd used all his life, before he learned what it was like to feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. Soap and shampoo from this planet. _Their_ planet.

Hunk smelled like home.

" _Keith…"_

Keith barely heard him, even though Hunk's mouth was right next to his ear. He felt one of Hunk's hands slide down from his chest to his stomach.

He stopped breathing altogether. He put his hand on top of Hunk's and _pressed_ , and then he felt Hunk's lower half go flush against him from behind, felt the pressure against his neck shifting until he was sure that it was Hunk's half-open mouth pressed against his skin instead of his cheek.

The pressure increased, just for a moment: a not-quite, almost-kiss.

" _Oh,"_ Keith breathed. He'd never been kissed, before.

" _Too much?"_

" _Nh… Not enough."_

Hunk did it again, and Keith felt the slow drag of his lips, this time, just barely, just enough to be sure-

Hunk was kissing him.

He squeezed Hunk's hand and leaned into him, letting his body relax, letting Hunk hold him up.

" _Keith."_

He frowned at the loss of pressure. He didn't want to talk. He wanted to _feel_.

" _Mm?"_

" _We need to go in a minute, okay? But I just need to tell you…"_

He felt the pressure against his neck again: warm, firm, fleeting.

Perfect.

" _I didn't get into this with you to give you one more thing to worry about,"_ Hunk murmured. _"You can count on me. You're my friend, and I love you. No matter what."_

Oh.

Sometimes _talking_ and _feeling_ happened at the same time, Keith realized, as a soothing warmth spread from his belly, to his chest, to the tips of his fingers.

" _You can count on me, too."_

" _I know, I…"_ He felt Hunk's thumb move in a slow circle over his stomach. _"That's why I want to do this."_

Keith loosened his grip on Hunk's hand and took hold of his wrist, instead, and Hunk took the hint. He went on exploring with his thumb for a moment, then moved the rest of his fingertips, too, massaging Keith's stomach with a firm touch.

Keith wanted to know what it would feel like without two layers of fabric getting in the way. He wanted to know what Hunk's hand would feel like against his bare skin. He _wanted_ -

" _Do you feel okay?"_ Hunk asked.

Keith almost laughed at the colossal understatement.

" _Yeah. I feel okay."_

Hunk's fingertips stopped their slow exploration. He moved his hands to Keith's hips, applied brief, firm pressure, and then stepped away from him.

"Me, too," he said, at a normal speaking volume.

Keith bowed his head for a moment, scanning his body. As much as he regretted the loss of pressure – of heat, of _closeness_ – his skin felt calm, and his breath was slow and even.

He was regulated.

He turned around, slid his arms around Hunk's shoulders, and pulled him close, because he wanted to, and because Hunk deserved to be hugged. And since he'd never kissed anyone before, and he wasn't exactly sure how it was done, he pressed his whole face against Hunk's cheek before he stepped away.

He knew he was blushing.

He didn't care.

 _You can count on me._

 _You're my friend, and I love you._

"Ready to get back?" Hunk asked. He was blushing, too.

"Yeah." Keith met his eye, held his gaze with calm confidence. "I'm ready."

* * *

They didn't touch each other again until after they'd fallen out of the sky.

Keith opened his eyes to find Krolia and Kolivan by his bedside, and he wondered, vaguely, if he'd died after all, because how could they have gotten here?

"Mom?"

The notion promptly squashed itself as soon as he tried to sit up; he doubted anyone felt this kind of _pain_ in the afterlife. He winced and brought a shaky hand toward the back of his head, thinking it must be split wide open. His fingers brushed against the bandage that was woven through his hair.

"Don't get up, Keith." Krolia was sitting next to him on the bed, now. "Your skull was fractured, but the break has already closed. You're healing well."

 _Fractured skull. That explains it._

"Everyone else?"

She smiled. "Banged up, but safe. The other paladins are all here on this hallway. Lance and Pidge have been here every hour to check on you. Allura has stopped by more than once, and Shiro calls every chance he gets."

He frowned. "Hunk?"

"He's next door. He's supposed to be on bed rest, but he snuck in here a while ago, too. Lance made sure he got back to bed safely."

"So he's all right?"

"Yes. He had a concussion, but the doctors say he's recovering well. He's under observation until tonight."

Keith breathed a sigh of relief, pointedly ignoring the throb of pain that came with it.

"How did you get here?"

"Allura used the Atlas to open a gateway. We came as soon as we heard about what happened."

Keith took this in. His memories of the battle were coming back in jumbled flashes.

"Sendak…"

"He's dead."

Keith swallowed.

"I killed him."

"You saved Shiro's life. You saved your entire planet, and everyone on it."

He was spared the task of processing the notion, since a Garrison medical officer arrived to examine him, just then. Krolia and Kolivan tried to insist on staying, but Keith could hear the exhaustion in their voices, the result of a full day-and-a-half of waiting for the doctors to lift his sedation, and he managed to convince them to take a break and get some sleep. Kosmo stayed where he was, curled up on the floor by the window, fast asleep.

The medical officer helped Keith sit up so she could examine the incision at the back of his head, lingering evidence that a surgeon had repaired his damaged skull; it was already sealed and healing perfectly. She used a portable imaging device to check for internal swelling, too, and found none.

She gave him some pills for the pain and cleared him for limited movement around his room, though she explained that he was technically on bed rest, and would have to call for an escort if he wanted to go anywhere else. He didn't love the idea, but he could see the sense in it. Just sitting up made him feel nauseous and unsteady, and he had no desire to risk further injury.

The medical officer took her leave just as Shiro appeared in the doorway, wearing his new uniform and looking exhausted. They smiled at each other, and Keith nodded, inviting him in.

"It's so good to see you with your eyes open," Shiro said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Ditto."

"Mm. I guess so, huh? I'm sorry I scared you, like that."

"It's okay. I'm just glad you found your way back."

"Thanks to you." Shiro shook his head. "And you saved my life _again_ , Keith."

Keith shrugged a little. "Force of habit."

Shiro smiled, though there was no real humor in his expression.

"I've really put you through it, huh?"

Keith didn't answer. He was starting to feel sleepy and light, a side-effect of the medication kicking in.

"I'm sorry," Shiro said, scrutinizing his face. "I know you need to rest. You're on shore leave until further notice, okay? Your orders are to sleep and recover, and to call me for whatever you need. I'd like to take some of the weight off your shoulders for a while, if I can."

Keith tried to scowl, though he wasn't sure if he hit the mark.

"Shiro-"

"Please," Shiro said, softly. "After everything you've done for me… I'll never be able to make it up to you, but it'll do me some good to try."

Keith blinked through the medication haze and eventually gave him a small nod.

"Can I hug you?" Shiro asked.

"Yeah."

It was practiced and familiar: the firm pressure of Shiro's arms around his back, the careful weight of Shiro's chin on his shoulder.

"I'm so glad you're okay, Keith, and… I…"

He hesitated. He let Keith go, his gaze drifting away from his face as the space between them grew.

Keith let out a small sigh.

He was used to Shiro's hesitation. He knew Shiro cared deeply for him, but he always kept him at arm's length, always stopped just short of any real admission of the feelings he kept so closely guarded.

It had been a long time since Keith had bothered trying to guess at what those feelings might be.

"I'll come right back if you need anything, okay?" Shiro finished, clumsily.

He was always telling Keith how much he wanted to stay, right before he left.

"Thanks, Shiro. I'm glad you're okay, too."

Keith stared after him for a moment after he'd gone, resisting the urge to collapse back onto his pillow, trying to summon the energy to lay down carefully, like he knew he should. He was still gazing absently into the hallway when Hunk stepped into view, wearing Garrison-issue orange loungewear and sporting a bandage like his own, the white fabric a stark contrast against the glossy brown-black of his hair. His smile forced Keith's lingering pain so far from his mind, he forgot about it entirely.

"You're awake!" Hunk said, pausing at the doorframe. "I thought I heard your voice."

Keith nodded sluggishly, felt his features rearranging into a slow-motion smile. "Come in."

Hunk closed the door behind him, and even in his foggy state, Keith felt butterflies starting to flutter in his midsection.

"You scared the shit out of me, man," Hunk told him, dragging a chair close to the bed and settling into it. "You make that bandage look good, though. Any tips?"

Keith felt a legitimate _giggle_ bubble up from somewhere deep inside himself, the sound of it light and unfamiliar to his own ears. Hunk looked delighted.

"Painkillers, huh?"

"Uh huh."

"You should probably lay down before you topple over."

"Nooo. No. Not yet." Keith frowned, feeling like the connection between his brain and his mouth was shorting out. "I had a thing. Something to tell you."

Hunk giggled. "It's okay, man, you can tell me after hrmph-"

He had to pause, because Keith had nudged at his face with the heel of his hand.

"No. Shh. Let me think."

Hunk went on giggling while Keith sifted through the foggy wasteland of his brain, trying to remember what he'd been dying to tell Hunk since the moment he'd woken up. He held out his hand absently, and Hunk picked it up and applied firm pressure to his fingers.

" _Just right…_ OH!" He fixed his gaze on Hunk's face, totally unaware of the dopey grin on his face. "You saved all our lives!"

Hunk's eyebrows went up.

"Huh?"

"You did! You knew we could call our lions when we were on Sendak's ship, and… we saved the Atlas, and… it was all your fault!" He frowned. That wasn't what he'd meant to say. "I mean… you were… _awesome_."

Keith swayed a bit. Hunk caught him with a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Okay, buddy. Time to lay down."

Keith didn't – couldn't – argue. He let Hunk steer him onto his back, and he settled onto his pillow with his head tilted in Hunk's direction.

" _Awesome,"_ he repeated. His eyelids felt impossibly heavy; they fell closed of their own accord. _"Thank you."_

Hunk didn't answer; he was busy wiping at his cheeks.

" _Hunk."_

"Yeah?"

" _Do you want to lay down?"_

"Um. Yeah, but… I don't think there's enough room."

" _No. I meant…"_ Keith slid his hand up to his chest, pulling Hunk's with it. _"Here."_

He was already slipping out of wakefulness when he felt the weight of Hunk's head settle over his heart.

" _Too much?"_ Hunk murmured.

" _Just right."_

His fingers found their way into Hunk's hair.

" _Keith?"_

He was already asleep.

* * *

The sun was hanging low in the sky when Keith opened his eyes again. He blinked at the door to his room, trying to figure out why it was open. Hunk had closed it when…

 _Hunk._

He sat up.

"Hey, man."

There was someone sitting next to his bed, but it wasn't Hunk.

It was Lance.


	4. Just Right

"…Lance," Keith mumbled, almost to himself. "Hey."

Lance flashed him a genuine smile.

"Welcome back to the land of the living. How's your brain cage?"

"Uh." Keith's mind spun, trying to fit the pieces of this scenario together. He was clear-headed, now, and very much aware that he'd fallen asleep with Hunk laying partially on top of him-

"Don't worry," Lance told him, uncharacteristic softness in his tone. "I made sure he got back in bed. He's still asleep."

 _Oh._

"He's okay?"

"Yeah." Lance picked up a bowl from a nearby tray and offered it to him. "Hungry?"

Keith accepted it gratefully. "Starving. Thanks."

"They lifted our rations restrictions," Lance explained. "We've been getting supplies from our allies nonstop since Allura opened the gateways. I know you like noodles, so…" He shrugged.

Keith nodded with his mouth full, chewed, swallowed. "You didn't have to. I appreciate it."

"Don't give me too much credit. It was Hunk's idea. He was really worried about you."

Keith felt his cheeks flush while he finished chewing another mouthful.

"So… you…"

"Walked in on your cuddle fest, yeah. The medical officer would've thrown a fit if she found you like that. I wasn't sure if you were looking for that kind of attention, so… I figured it'd be better if I just got Hunk back in bed."

Keith chewed, processing. It had occurred to him that he might have to have this kind of conversation with Lance, but this was not at all how he'd expected it to go. He'd been expecting a confrontation, or at the very least, an interrogation. He couldn't tell how Lance was feeling right now, but neither of them were yelling – not yet, anyway – and he decided to take that as an encouraging sign.

"Did you talk to Hunk about it?" he probed.

"No. I wanted to talk to you before I decide what to say to him."

Keith nodded. That sounded reasonable, if not slightly more ominous. He finished the contents of the bowl and set it aside.

"Look, man," Lance said, sounding unsure, all of a sudden. "I'm really glad you're okay. I was worried about you, too. You're my friend, and I've been sitting here for the last hour wondering if I should just leave this alone, but… Hunk is my favorite person, and he looks out for me, so I have to do that, too. So if you could just tell me what's going on… it would really make me feel better."

A weight of nervous energy lodged itself in Keith's midsection. Lance was being painfully generous, and he felt woefully unequipped to move this conversation in a satisfying direction.

"I… we…"

Lance waited patiently for a moment for bailing him out. "Are you together?"

"We haven't gotten that far."

"Do you want to be?"

"I… I don't know."

Lance narrowed his eyes. Keith cringed internally.

 _Wrong answer._

"I mean, I don't know how to tell," he tried to clarify. "I don't know what it's supposed to be like."

"What? Dating someone?"

"Yeah. Liking someone _like that._ I've never… I mean, I haven't ever…"

Lance's expression softened. "You've never liked someone before?"

"No. I've never done anything like this, before."

"Oh." Lance ran a hand through his hair. "Wow. Okay. Uh… maybe we should talk about it?"

Keith nodded, relieved at this response.

"So… how did things start?"

"Um." Keith tried to cut-and-paste the epic space battle and the subsequent head injury into a temporary folder, so he could focus on what had happened prior. "He hugged me a couple times, and I noticed that I… didn't hate it." Lance raised his eyebrows. "I mean, I usually don't like it when people grab me, like that," Keith explained. "But it's different, with him."

"Okay… well, I really like hugging Hunk, too. He's, like, the best hugger in the universe. It doesn't mean I want to date him, though."

Keith took this in. He knew that some people routinely hugged and snuggled their friends.

 _He_ didn't, though, and he'd never wanted to, before.

"I'm pretty sure I only want to hug Hunk like that."

"Why?"

"Because I like him."

Lance stared at him for a second before he burst out laughing. Keith put on the deepest scowl he could muster.

"What?! What's funny about that?"

"It's… I mean… just like that, huh?" Lance waved his hands in apology, still giggling. "I'm sorry! You're just so intense! It's good, though, man, it's good…"

Keith rolled his eyes. "It's true, okay? I do."

"Okay, okay…" Lance took a calming breath, wiping at the corner of one eye. "Spill it, then. What do you like about him?"

Keith stared him down for a moment, resisting the urge to throw him out of the room. He knew Lance's intentions were noble, as obnoxious as he could sometimes be, and thus far, his insight had been helpful. The longer they talked, the more Keith felt that this was a conversation he really needed to have.

"I like everything about him," he eventually said, without a hint of irony. "He's funny, and he's insanely smart, and he's nice to everyone, and he's brave…"

Lance was looking at him seriously, now.

"Wow. Okay. Um… do you think he's cute?"

Keith considered this.

"I'm not sure. How do you tell?"

Lance stared.

"Uh. I think you just kinda… know? I mean, when I like someone, I like what they look like. Their face… certain things about their body…"

"Oh. Okay. I..."

Keith hesitated. He wasn't sure if the things he liked about Hunk were the same kinds of things Lance was describing. He liked the sturdiness of Hunk's frame, the warmth of his skin. He liked the weight and pressure of him. He liked the smoothness of his hair.

The list went on, and he didn't feel particularly inclined to share it with Lance, especially when he hadn't shared it with Hunk, yet.

"I like his hands," he finally said.

Lance raised an eyebrow. "In a sexy way?"

"Lance."

"Serious question. Does he turn you on?"

" _Lance._ "

He raised his hands in submission.

"Okay, okay, you don't have to tell me. You should think about it, though, for whenever you guys decide to hash this out. It sounds like you really like him, and if you decide to give things a try… you should figure out what you want out of it. That's all I meant."

Keith considered the point. He thought about the way his body had started to wake up after the first time they'd gotten close, and the way he'd leaned into the pressure when Hunk had put his mouth on his neck…

He swallowed.

"You're right. I'll think about it." He refocused his attention on Lance, processing the entirety of his last statement. " _Give things a try_. What does that mean?"

"Uh… start a relationship? Be boyfriends or cuddle buddies or friends-with-benefits or whatever you decide you want to be?"

 _Boyfriends_.

Keith turned the word over in his mind.

"What's the difference between _boyfriends_ and _friends-with-benefits_?"

"Huh. I mean, people usually decide to be friends-with-benefits because they're focusing more on the physical stuff, and less on the feelings. Boyfriends is when you think you love someone, too. Like, when you think you want to be together for a long time. Or when you don't feel the same way about anyone else, and you only want to be with that one person."

 _Oh._

"Okay. That's… helpful."

They were both quiet for a moment, thinking.

"Keith?"

"Uh huh?"

"Can I ask you for a favor?"

"Yeah."

"Just… whatever you decide to say to him, or _do_ with him… just make sure you mean it, okay? He's… special. He's the most loyal person I know. He was a wreck, waiting for you to wake up, and he snuck out of his room to come be with you, so he's probably halfway in love with you already, and… I'm gonna try really hard to trust you not to break his heart. Okay?"

Keith nodded slowly.

 _Halfway in love…_

"I'll be careful. I promise."

"I believe you, and if you tell anyone I said this, I'll stab you in the eye, but… I'm kinda glad it's you."

Keith smirked. "Like you could ever stab me in the eye."

"Don't tempt me, mullet."

They laughed together. Keith enjoyed the way they fell into it with ease, feeling grateful that he and Lance had arrived at this place after traveling such a long road together.

"Lance? One more thing?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I have to do something really nice for Hunk. Any ideas?"

He looked thoughtful.

"He's pretty easy. He likes everything."

"I know. I want to make an impression, though."

"Hmm. I dunno, man. All he wanted was to get home and see his family, and they're all here-"

"Oh!" Keith nodded. "I have something. Hang on."

He reached for his own tablet and placed a video call to Shiro, who picked up right away.

"Keith? Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Everything's great. You have a minute?"

"Yeah. What's up?"

"So, you owe me about a million favors, right?"

Shiro laughed.

"Yeah, sounds about right."

"Okay." Keith grinned. "I need to call one in."

* * *

Keith was breathing deeply, trying to calm the nervous energy that was pumping through his veins and crawling over his skin.

He'd just finished changing into the orange, loose-fitting shirt and pants the medical officer had left in his room. The material was softer than he'd expected, and much more comfortable than the scratchy, shapeless hospital gown he'd been wearing before. The pain and dizziness were gone, now, too, and that was a relief. He didn't need any unnecessary distractions right now. He needed to stay regulated.

He took several calming breaths, grabbed the headset, receiver, and controller Shiro had brought for him, and headed next door to Hunk's room.

Hunk was sitting cross-legged on his bed, waiting for him, wearing a smile that could've lit up the whole desert in the dead of night.

"Hey! Come in!"

Keith stepped into the room, taking time to pull the door shut behind him. He approached the bed, hoping his expression was conveying all of the excitement he felt, and none of the nervousness.

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

He pulled a chair close to Hunk's side and sat down.

"Better," Hunk said. "Really good, actually. How are you?"

Keith nodded. "I'm really good, too."

"Okay. That's good. Uh… I have a confession to make, though."

Keith thought Hunk sounded a little bit nervous, too.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I didn't text you as soon as I woke up, like you asked me to. I needed some time, first, because I have a surprise for you."

The excitement spilled over, washing some of the nervousness away.

"Really? What did you do?"

Hunk opened the drawer in his bedside table, pulled out a shiny, black device, and handed it to Keith.

It was a classic PlayStation controller.

Keith stared at it, then at the screen in the wall across from the bed, which Hunk had just turned on.

"Ratchet and Clank!" Hunk said, with barely contained excitement. "I mean, all of my games are here, so you can play whatever you want, but-"

"Holy shit," Keith exhaled. He looked at Hunk. "You're _awesome._ "

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. But… you're supposed to be on bed rest. How did you get this hooked up?"

"Lance helped me out. I can move everything over to your room tomorrow, if you want. I just… I thought you might want to hang out with me in here, for a while."

Keith nodded. "I really do."

"Okay. So… do you want to play? Or do you want to… talk?"

He felt a single, heartbeat-pulse at the back of his throat. Hunk knew they had things to talk about. He was ready to start the conversation. He was waiting patiently, his brown eyes wide, his huge hands fidgeting vaguely in his lap – the same hands that had just given him this gift, this extraordinary gesture of thoughtfulness…

"Both," he said, his nervousness dissipating. Whatever else happened tonight, he felt sure, now, that Hunk wanted him here. Hunk was his friend. Hunk was someone he could count on. "I have to show you something first, though. I have a surprise for you, too."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Hang on."

Keith set the PlayStation controller down on the table and walked to the screen in the wall, so he could plug the tiny receiver into the port on the side of it. He put on the headset – a thin, curved piece of metal that rested on top of his ears and projected a holographic display in front of his eyes – and switched it on. The image on the viewscreen synched up with the image on his display, so that Hunk could see what he was looking at, without the navigation controls obscuring the image. He pulled the small controller out of his pocket, sat down next to Hunk, again, and focused his attention on the map on his display.

"Is that a drone?" Hunk asked, as the camera moved slowly away from the ground, revealing a sandy beach and the gently rolling waves of the ocean.

"Sure is."

Hunk looked confused.

"This isn't happening in real time, though, is it? It's dark out..."

"This is live. It's just really far away."

"Oh. That makes sense. Man, that's beautiful. It looks just like-"

He stopped.

Keith smiled to himself, following the path he'd mapped out earlier. He flew the drone high into the sky, away from the beach and over a series of residential streets until he found the one he was looking for.

"Keith."

Hunk's voice was thick. Keith took the drone down, close to the street, and hovered.

Hunk put both of his hands over his mouth and started to cry.

Keith set the drone to autopilot, set the headset and controller aside, and rested a hand on Hunk's shoulder.

"That's my house," Hunk choked out, along with a handful of sobs.

"It's still standing. You can go back, as soon as things settle-"

"Keith?" Hunk was looking at him now, wiping at his cheeks with the back of his hand. "Can you come up here?"

 _Yes. For you, I can._

Keith moved easily onto the bed. He settled onto his knees in front of Hunk, slid hid arms around his shoulders, and hugged him close. Hunk returned the pressure and then some, his arms secure and steady around the small of Keith's back.

" _Too much?"_ he sniffed.

" _Just right."_

" _Keith…"_ Hunk's voice was low, but he was starting to sound more composed, now. _"I think this is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."_

" _I wanted to make you happy."_

" _You did. You do."_

Keith touched the ends of Hunk's hair with his fingertips. It was soft, and sleek, and it smelled like home.

" _Hunk."_

" _Mm?"_

" _It's not enough."_

Hunk flattened his hands against Keith's lower back, pulled him closer. Keith nodded against his shoulder.

" _More."_

Hunk pressed his cheek against his neck. His skin was soft and smooth.

" _More."_

He pressed his mouth there, instead: just once, a proper kiss, firm pressure underneath his ear.

" _Oh,"_ Keith breathed. _"Hunk… I've never kissed anyone, before."_

Hunk did it again, letting the moment stretch, this time: warm lips on sensitive skin.

" _Do you want to?"_

" _Yeah. But… just you, okay?"_

Hunk shifted onto his knees so they were chest-to-chest, pressed flush together.

" _Okay,"_ he said. _"Just you, too."_

He loosened his hold, found Keith's eyes for a fleeting, heart-stopping moment, then pressed his lips to the corner of Keith's mouth.

Keith's eyes fell shut. He tried to concentrate, tried to focus on the specifics of what Hunk was doing, but it was no use. His heart must've been beating its way right out of his chest, and his skin must've been crackling with electricity. Hunk kissed him the same way again, and he gathered two handfuls of Hunk's shirt in his closed fists and held on tight.

" _Keith?"_ He opened his eyes. Hunk was right there, less than an inch away. _"Too much?"_

He shook his head.

Hunk kissed his mouth.

He held himself still, memorizing the way Hunk was pressing, perfectly, against his lower lip.

He pressed back.

" _Mh…"_

Hunk hummed against his lips, smiled, made a small space between them.

" _Hey! You did it!"_

Keith let out a quiet laugh.

" _Was it okay?"_

" _Yeah. It was just right."_

" _Can we try again?"_

" _Uh. Yes. As many times as you want."_

Keith pressed his lips against Hunk's again, still smiling.

They held steady like that for a while, not moving, just _feeling_.

And then Hunk moved one of his hands to the back of Keith's neck, opened his mouth a little, and renewed the pressure on Keith's lower lip.

The rush of sensation washed over Keith like a wave.

He shivered.

He tried it, too, and Hunk made a low, rumbling sound that vibrated against his mouth and his chest.

" _Shit,"_ Hunk breathed, his cheeks flushed, his face still impossibly close. _"Is this okay? I mean, I really, really like you-_ "

" _I like you, too."_

" _And I don't want to kiss anyone else, either-_ "

" _Okay."_

" _So… this is a thing? I mean, we're doing a thing? Together?"_

Keith let out a quiet laugh. _"Yeah. We're doing a thing together."_

" _And it's not just for tonight?"_

" _No. No way. It's definitely not just for tonight."_

Hunk hugged him close, again. Keith closed his eyes and leaned against him, feeling the pulse of Hunk's heartbeat through his shirt.

" _Hunk."_

" _Uh huh?"_

" _It's not enough."_

Hunk pressed a slow kiss against his neck.

" _More."_

Hunk slipped a hand under his shirt, pressed his palm against his lower back: deep pressure, a firm and binding hold, erasing the distance between them-

" _Mh… more."_

Hunk found his eyes.

" _How much more?"_

Keith swallowed, breathing shallow, feeling his body waking up all over again.

" _I don't know. Is that okay?"_

Hunk nodded. He brought a hand to Keith's forehead, moved his hair away from his face, then flattened his palm against his cheek: warm, even pressure, strong fingers holding him, supporting him…

Keith let his mouth fall open. He leaned against Hunk's hand.

" _Keith? You want to stay here with me tonight?"_

Keith was helpless to stop the sound that fell out of his mouth.

Hunk held still, hesitating. _"Too much?"_

" _No."_ Keith breathed in and out, and his whole body sang. _"Just right."_

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This marks the unofficial ending of this fic! I'm considering doing one or two explicit chapters as a sequel. If you're interested in seeing more, please leave me a comment to let me know!


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